


Bee Mine?

by gracefulblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Autistic Castiel, Cas loves bees, Cute boyfriends are cute, Demisexual Castiel, HS AU, Happy Ending, John's A+ Parenting, M/M, Openly Bisexual Dean, Self Harm, Slow Burn, douchebag angel squad, i love how sarcastic and bitter that tag is, just let cas talk about bees ok, what a wonderful tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5606947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefulblue/pseuds/gracefulblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to talk about bees. He's pretty sure everyone wants him to just be quiet, but Dean wants to listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bee Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> I myself am autistic, so I'm basing Castiel's autism off my own (though bees aren't my special interest). If you have anything you want to say, especially requests or ideas, you can find me at [graceful-blue](http://graceful-blue.tumblr.com/%22), or use a basic summoning ritual and I should be there right away.

All Castiel wanted to do was read his new book about bees.

 

Bees were good. The world needed them to pollinate all the plants and keep pretty much the entire ecosystem on land going. They were small, and they shouldn’t be able to fly, but they were key in the environment, and Castiel was going to help the world realize why they needed to be saved. Plus, bee’s were just all around better than humans in every conceivable way.

 

Especially the ones Castiel used to call friends.

 

Anna, Raphael, Uriel, and the leader of the group, Micheal. They used to be thick as thieves, the five of them. Then, for whatever incomprehensible reason that neurotypicals usually gave for their cruel behavior, they just. . .ignored him. Like he never existed at all.

 

_ Whatever, _ he thought, frowning at the picture of an  _ Apidea apis _ on the page.  _ They don’t even care about the shortage of bees in the world.  _ It was a small comfort to know that if anyone was to single-handedly save the bees, it would be him.

 

But it wasn’t enough to distract him entirely. He was painfully aware of the empty space around him at the library table. He wanted to talk, to tell someone about all the things he was passionate about, all the stupid jokes he loved to repeat, all songs that never stopped playing in his head. He just wanted to  _ talk _ , and he wanted someone to listen, really listen. If everyone else deserved that, then so did he. He was worth it.

 

_ Then why doesn’t anyone else think so? _

 

Castiel sighed, slipped his bookmark into place, and rubbed his face with both hands. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. They weren’t worth the tears.

 

_ You could always just apologize, _ he told himself, shoulders slumping. 

 

_ No,  _ he insisted,  _ I didn’t do anything wrong. _

 

He really wanted to cry. It didn’t matter that he was out in public (it never mattered before), he just wanted to break down and be comforted. He didn’t know who he wanted to do the comforting.  _ Anna is--Anna was good at comforting me. _ Anna could go fuck herself.

 

Castiel stayed like that until the bell rang. He didn’t have any more classes for the day, so he let himself sit there a few minutes more before packing his book away, pushing his earbuds into his ears, and making his way across the campus to his car.

 

Sleeping At Last bounced through his ears, crooning to him about knights in shiny plastic armour. It was January, but that didn’t mean Castiel couldn’t enjoy a sweet song about love on Halloween. “ _ All I wanna be, is whatever you want me to be, this Halloween,”  _ Castiel sang quietly, head down and hood up to keep the rain off his glasses. “ _ All I wanna be, is whoever you want me to be, this Halloween.”  _ The music soothed him; the itch under his skin wasn’t as bad, and his nose didn’t sting with the threat of tears anymore. 

 

They came back when he turned the music off.

 

He hated when this happened, and it always happened. He made a friend, his autism got in the way of the friendship, and he was abandoned. It had been going on for as long as he’s been in school. He was always the annoying one, the toxic one, the childish one, and he never knew when what he was doing was too much. He hated that he couldn’t turn it off, couldn’t wake up and know how to interact with people the right way.

 

Castiel cried. He covered his face and cried, hands soon wet with tears and spit. He wasn’t surprised. 

 

_ Bees wouldn’t treat me like I’m nothing. . . _

 

~ ~ ~

 

Castiel stood frozen in place, eyes wide and hands curled tight around his tray. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but it couldn’t have been what he thought. 

 

The other guy was still looking at him, lips curled in a patient smile. 

 

Castiel stared down at his lunch, a simple salad, and gave a barely-there shrug.

 

“Hey, if you don’t want to eat in here, we could find someplace quieter to sit.” The guy sounded so. . . _ not irritated. _ Castiel wasn’t sure what his game was, but it was rare for people not to be irritated at him, so maybe it couldn’t be all bad. His chin dipped in a nod.

 

“Awesome,” the guy said, letting Castiel lead them to a better place to eat. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

 

“I know who you are,” Castiel mumbled, fingers twitching with the need to stim. “You were John Proctor when we read The Crucible last year, and you never pay any attention in Statistics.” Castiel looked up then, since they had reached their destination. “We’ve been going to school together since 6th grade.”

 

Dean blinked, dumbstruck. Castiel looked away, positive that he’d fucked up and made Dean uncomfortable. He wanted to push his hands in his pocket and fidget with his stim toy, but he was still holding his tray, and they hadn’t sat down yet. 

 

Instead of getting upset, or calling him weird, Dean just shrugged and chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He winked at Castiel and slid down the wall until he landed on his rear.

Castiel sat next to him, knees drawn up to his chest and salad balanced on his knees. Dean didn’t comment on the position, for which Castiel was grateful.

 

They ate in silence, another thing Castiel was grateful for. He didn’t want to scare Dean off.

 

So naturally, that was the moment Dean noticed the book sitting next to him. “So, you like bees?”

 

_ Oh God. _ Castiel swallowed and nodded, physically biting his tongue to hold himself back. “Mhm,” was his only answer.

 

“Cool! What do you like about them?”

 

“You really don’t want to start down that road with me,” Castiel said, fingers pushing under his glasses to rub at his eyes. 

 

“Yeah I do! Bees are cool.”

 

Castiel couldn’t help it. “Yes, bees are very cool. They support pretty much the entire ecosystem on land, and they shouldn’t be able to fly, but they do.” He didn’t even try to make himself shut up. “And their honey tastes different when it comes from different flowers. Most honey is clover honey, but my personal favorite is blueberry honey. Did you know that bees can’t even hold a cup of honey in their hives? That’s why people who’re anti-honey are so ridiculous, they think the honey industry is harming bees, when really any competent beekeeper knows how much honey it’s okay to take. And furthermore--” he stopped, suddenly too shy to go on. He pulled his hood up and shoved another bite of salad into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk anymore.

 

Dean was staring at him, but it wasn’t a freaked out stare like he was used to. After a moment, he chuckled, just once, and scratched the back of his head. “Wow. I didn’t know that. You’re like, a bee expert.”

 

Castiel could never tell when he was blushing, but if he had to guess, he’d say his cheeks were pretty rosy. He swallowed his mouthful and shook his head. “I just. . .love them alot.”

 

Dean nodded. “I could tell,” he murmured. “Do you own a hive or somethin’?”

 

Castiel snorted and shook his head. “I wish. My father is deathly allergic.”  _ To allowing me to experience happiness that isn’t congruent with his strict neurotypical ideals,  _ he thought. Not that he was bitter or anything.

 

“I’m sorry, Cas, that sucks. You’d be a good beekeeper.”

 

Castiel stared at the ground.

 

“So...are-are you my--...are we friends now?” Cas really didn’t know how to do this whole “making new friends” thing.

 

Dean looked at him, and Cas was sure he’d absolutely fucked up. 

 

“Yeah, Cas, I guess we are.” 

  
_ If bees could smile, they’d look like Dean. _


End file.
